


Then What's To Stop Us?

by Strangeredlantern, Vague_Shadows



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU for Supernatural "What Is And What Should Never Be", Alternate Universe, Angst, Episode: s02e20 What Is and What Should Never Be, NOT promising a happy ending
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-06
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-02-24 07:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2573987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strangeredlantern/pseuds/Strangeredlantern, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vague_Shadows/pseuds/Vague_Shadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We were watching "What is and what should never be" and realized we could have some fun applying it to the Teen Wolf world :) </p>
<p>Prologue</p>
<p>	“Where are you?” Scott asks when Stiles picks up the phone.<br/>“Checking out a lead,” Stiles replies.  “Pretty sure it’s nothing though.”<br/>“Wait, no, pick me up; I’ll go with you,” Scott counters.  “You shouldn’t go all by yourself.”<br/>“I’m twenty-three, dude,” Stiles reminds, “and a recently hired officer of the peace,” he adds.  I can take care of myself even if I am only human.  I’ll call you later with an update,” he promises, ending the call before Scott can protest further.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Then What's To Stop Us?

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't seen the referenced episode of Supernatural, I think you'll still be good to read, just know that this isn't necessarily the happy ending kind of story....

> **"Then what's to stop us, pretty baby. But What Is And What Should Never Be."**

**\-- Robert Plant, James Patrick, LED ZEPPLIN**

 

 

* * *

 

**Prologue**

 

            “Where are you?” Scott asks when Stiles picks up the phone.

            “Checking out a lead,” Stiles replies.  “Pretty sure it’s nothing though.”

            “Wait, no, pick me up; I’ll go with you,” Scott counters.  “You shouldn’t go all by yourself.”

            “I’m twenty-three, dude,” Stiles reminds, “and a recently hired officer of the peace,” he adds.  I can take care of myself even if I am only human.  I’ll call you later with an update,” he promises, ending the call before Scott can protest further.

 

 

 

* * *

 

            Stiles wakes suddenly, eyes snapping open as he jolts to alertness.  He’s not sure what woke him, but in the next couple seconds he realizes two key facts: this isn’t his bed, and someone’s lying next to him.

He flails on instinct, falling off the bed and hitting the hardwood floor with a painful thud.   The shock of the impact sends pain shooting up through his knees, but he’s standing in the next instant anyway.  The sleeping figure in bed reaches out a hand to flick on the bedside lamp.  She sits up slowly, her long, auburn hair disheveled from sleep and yet beautiful as ever.  She’s glaring at him with unadulterated hatred.

“What the _fuck_ is your problem, Stiles?” she demands.  “It’s three in the morning.”

“Lydia?!” he blurts.  “Lydia, you’re in my--well, I’m in _your_ bed?” he wonders, staring around now and recognizing the somewhat familiar upstairs bedroom of the lake house where the two of them have spent many a night compiling research.  

“ _Our_ bed,” she corrects, “but wake me up in the dead of night again and you’re banished to the couch for a month.”

_She’s talking like this is a thing.  Like we--me and Lydia--are a thing._

_A this is “our” bed kind of thing._

_What in the hell is going on?_

“Stiles, are you okay?” she wonders, a bit more tenderness in her voice now.  “You don’t look so great.”

“Yeah, great,” he replies.  “I’m fine.  Totally fine, just--gonna get a glass of water.”

“Okay,” she asks, regarding him skeptically.  “ _Sure_ you’re okay?”

“Pretty sure,” he replies with a forced smile.

_Except for the fact that I’m maybe losing my mind?_

Stiles makes his way down the stairs, taking in the small differences in decoration of the place that seem to suggest a hand besides Lydia helped in a bit of the decorating.  He pours himself some water out of the filtered pitcher in the fridge and sips it slowly.  He takes in the pictures on the fridge, noting that surely Lydia’s hand is in the stylish arrangement and matching magnet set; the complete opposite of Stiles’ haphazard array back at the apartment.  And yet there are a few things that he’d almost bet he was the one to add--a couple thoughtlessly placed take-out menus and a random postcard from North Carolina and a few other East Coast locations.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary at first glance, the pack in various happy posed and candid shots.  Until his eyes land on a shot that can’t possibly be real.  Scott and Allison smiling at him out of a “save the date” photo to announce their upcoming wedding.

“What the hell?!” Stiles says, grabbing at the photo.

In the process he knocks several of them to the white tile of the kitchen floor.  When he bends to clean up his mess, a familiar face greets him, aged past any memory he has of her, grinning out of a picture in which she wears a hat declaring her “Over the Hill.”

_Mom?_

_She’s alive?_

The glass in Stiles’ hand drops to the floor, shattering, but he doesn’t pause to clean up his mess.  He sprints for the door, grabbing the familiar set of Jeep keys from the hook on the wall.  If there’s even the _slightest_ chance that this isn’t just some weird dream; if there’s any possibility whatsoever that djinns really do grant wishes, it means that less that fifteen minutes away Mom is alive and well.

_Oh please, oh please, oh please..._

 

 

 

 


End file.
